Paper Wings
by Maven Harris
Summary: [Not for the weak hearted. MA] They were both rebels, each lost in their own darkness. To her, he always seemed the brightest sun, never failing to dazzle her. To him, she was like a puzzle, one that he couldn't comprehend. But when paper wings burn, would she be his fall? [ Sirius X OC] [Jily] [Lupin X OC]
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _I am complex and_

 _Fragile with torn paper wings_

… _but I can still fly_

I am not affluent.

I am not amiable.

I am not assertive.

And these are just the A's of the things I'm not. Nice has nothing to do with me. If you're looking for someone deliberately heroic, smart and popular, I'd recommend you the Gryffindor table, where you would find a pack of agreeable boys, ready to flash their buoyancy. Now, you might be wondering who am I…Don't mock me when I say that I've been wondering about this for quite a long time. It's a prolonged battle between the assumptions, as to whether it's me, stuck in the body of April Green, a practically invisible being to the rest of the world, or is me—April Green, spirited away?

Years of seeking out something near to good, I gave up a long time ago, to choose to be someone I know. Something irrationally undefined, a mystery existing since before time—space; invisible and void. Jibes still hadn't stopped, nevertheless. But they were fewer. I, for one, happened to fall in the worst of luck. You see, I've never quite been able to fit in, may that be the grotesque muggle world, a that I had to succumb being a timid child, or the ruthless wizarding world, having thrown me into a House of bullies. Yes. I was bullied by my _own_ housemates. Three guesses who? And here I am, all alone and concealed the Dillusionment charm unsurprisingly being the first spell I most likely deemed to master.

The nauseating pressure of the exams have rained through and it's the sun of last day of the term—my 5th year—shining brightly in the sky. Thankfully (obviously) the library is deserted—almost—I can hear James Potter drawling about his undying love and devotion to Lily Evans somewhere around. Could that boy be any _less_ subtle about his affections? I am the last person to gossip around (more like you needed friends to do that), and even _I_ am aware of each of his recent antics. My mind reels off to a particular incident involving the lake, Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL exam and a certain Slytherin along with these two. At least I'm saved from the rest of the gang. I gingerly shut the heavy old book, securing its fading, tattered pages sadly tearing away from the edges. I inhale another deep breath, a smile naturally turning up my lips with the welcoming aroma of the rusty old smell issuing from the books. Nobody bothered to hover around, looking for someone to hex.

Hearing footsteps echoing my way, I hastily send the book back to the shelf, when—

"Brachiabindo!"

Vines slither around me, binding me to the chair, that tilts back dangerously, and I have to desperately lean forward for balance.

Sirius Black blows the tip of his wand dramatically, smirking coldly at my direction. Color drains my face as dread pools deep in my belly. How the hell did he find me!

"Trying to run away, Snivellus? Not very wise, was it? A Dillusionment charm to worm your way back with Evans…" Sirius tuts disapprovingly, and for some reason, the knot of stress unfurled into a gush of relief deep inside my belly.

I stiffen up once more, with every step he advances my way. He can't see me! _Protego!_

His smirk , realizing the Shield Charm. "Been practicing non-verbals, have you? Too bad, even that is not enough to save you, Snivelly."

In a flash, I'm hanging upside down, those smoky grey eyes on me, though indubitably unfocused. I grit my teeth, forcing all my will into a silent turmoil as blood gushes into my head, crafting me numb. He thinks I'm Severus Snape. I don't really prefer being a greasy lump, a tiny part in me still hoping to be acknowledged. Sirius smirks as I finally gasp, trying not to faint. I know those eyes, the eyes of a predator, watchful, waiting, for its prey to fall, to land straight into its clutches. He reaches out a long, his wand probing, probably so he could lift my invisibility spell. Almost impulsively, I jerk out of my cocoon of numbness.

 _Everte Statum!_

Not losing the ten seconds while Sirius is knocked back, I steady myself back on foot again. Oh no, he doesn't looks too happy about being thrown back, and I am a sitting duck, a couple of steps away. But hey, he still can't see me, can he? A flash of red grazes a flying stray strand. Sirius Black is in action. He fires again, a spell I know not of, but this time, I'm ready. I levitate a nearby chair, not wanting to give in my immediate position. Almost effortlessly, he deflects the chair with a bored look on his face, sending it to crash against another table. The next thing I know, the books are flying, trashing around everywhere, _anywhere_. Clever boy. A giant, iron rimmed book thuds against my shoulders. I have to ignore the burning pain, because now, all the books, along with those grey, grey eyes that are on me, as one. It's show time.

Sirius is on move again, sending jets of varied hues my way (not to mention his monstrous books), his jaw set in a hard line. With a mute snarl, I dive behind a shelf, transfiguring his flapping gruesome books into a flock of twittering birds. _Oppugno_! I let a wave of triumph wash over my strained muscles. Sirius meticulously dodges a couple of birds before he transfigures them further in a pile of feathers. He wheels directly at me, brows crossed together.

My heart leaps when he blatantly says "You're not Snivellus". Did he recognize me? Nah, he wouldn't…I doubt he even remembers the time when we first met. I waited nervously in front of the barrier to Platform 9 3/4 . Waited for what? I neither knew then, nor do now. My mother was far from sober enough to see me off and my dad…they finally retrieved his body over the summer. Barely a few days before Easter, my form head called me in one evening, and surprisingly asked me to have tea. She only did this for the older forms, even among them, the pretty, favorite ones. From the tight posture to the pitiful eyes, it barely took me a moment to grasp that this wasn't going to be pleasant. "It's your father," she said. "He's been in an accident." I knew there was not 'accident'. My father was an Auror. He was probably on one of his missions to catch a random dark wizard, nothing like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, mind you. But he didn't make it. Not this time. Of course I didn't cry in front of her. I merely nodded and excused myself. I barely passed on my final exams. I guess I deserved an F, for I hadn't even bothered to open them. The teachers must have marked me out of pity. I couldn't believe that he was gone. Until I met her. What would you do, if you find your mother in a pile of her own vomit, clutching one of the many spirit bottles lying all around her? I knew she wouldn't bother to get me home from the train station, so I took the bus, trying not to look as lost as I felt. The whole summer was a menace. Not quite often, I would find a different man join us in the kitchen next morning. I didn't understand back then. The nights were sleepless, for both me and mum; her, screaming exuberant moans, and me stirring left and right to get comfortable enough for sleep to kick in, hands clamping my ears.

So back to King's Cross station, I glanced up at the large clock for the umpteenth time, shifting feet to feet uncomfortably with a single dread: "Will I miss the train?" I was saved from further prosecution of my self-esteem by a tap on my shoulder. Cloudy grey eyes were the first to strike me among his handsome, aristocratic features.

"Trying to get past the barrier?" He followed my gaze. It was good to find someone less stupid. I would have lashed out if he mistook me for a muggleborn. My parents were magical, and I was aware of it since birth. But my present loneliness brought me out as worse than a muggle itself.

"I don't know how to get past them." I confessed. It was only right. I have never been through the barrier before, much less alone.

His grin fleshed out dimples through his smooth, pale skin. "We could dash in together, you know."

I raised my gaze up further to see a tall, beaky-nosed woman scowling at me, her lips pale, set in a thin line. The stout, balding man standing by her looked disapproving, but not as vicious. Some imaginary force made me nod, despite my indecisiveness, and boy, he wasted no moment in catching my hand to pull me away. Pull me away from all this madness, the malicious muggles, jealous of our kind, my withering mother, plucked and forlorn after dad's death, and my old life. No. I was not Cinderella, nor he was my Prince Charming. My life did not get easier by any means, nor did I and my mystery boy, which I later came to acknowledge—Sirius Black got any closer than the loops of opposing houses on a Quidditch pitch.

And now, he advances me, with a certain certainty, wand drawn pointing me, eyes vague, but organized. Ready to pick on every grain I dropped.

"WHAT IS THIS TERRIBLE MESS! DUELLING IN THE LIBRARY? I'M CALLING HEADMASTER!"

I allow myself to exhale in relief, while he's distracted my Madam Pince, the librarian. I can sneak out of here. It would be a piece of cake for me. I barely move up a few steps, when I feel a sudden tug deep in my belly. Guilt. I pulled him in. He attacked me, but not before he saw the book and the chair drawn. _And he's not just 'anyone' for you, is he,_ my subconsciousness flashes a sly grin. Growling inwardly, I steady my wand again.

 _Fumos duo_.

Intense grey smoke lather all through the library and Sirius, who had just begun tailing my steps again, looks around, perplexed.

I seize the chance to saunter towards him, and tug his arm. It takes him a moment to give in and allow me to steer him out. The library is already in a rush with other teachers too. I halt, causing Sirius to bump against my back, a ghost of his breath trickles the back of my neck before he steadies himself. Filch is racing towards the library with utmost immediacy that makes my eyebrow twitch up quizzically. He hadn't even bothered to notice us, plain in sight.

"This way." Sirius roughly yanks my hand, and I have to force my calves to speed up, so as not be half-dragged, half-yanked up the stairs.

I can't help but feel grateful for his quick wit. The library sits on the first floor and with the exams over, most of the students are out in the sun, mostly by the lake, enjoying their first of the leisure days before the next term. Upstairs would be a perfect place for us to hide before things calm down. By the time we reach the 6th floor landing, my feet are ready to give in, but his iron grip confirms his wish to go further, much to my dismay. Gasping, I bend low, a hand capping my knee, the other resting against a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy on the 7th floor. I do not enjoy exerting myself physically, especially running. It makes me feel so pawnish. Like it's a hunt. And I'm the prey.

Still panting, but in low deep breaths instead of short furtive gasps, I hoist myself erect, only to skitter back and lean on the stone cold wall. At least the cold balms by fatigue.

"Very clever of you." I remark, barely a whisper, as I raise my eyes.

Almost instantly, I'm pinned to the wall, my arms outstretched.

"Who are you?" His acerbic tone resonates a sting in my chest. His face is deadpan, and even those lush tendrils that frame his face so casually aren't enough to not intimidate me out of my wits. Sirius Black knows how to be scary when it comes to it.

But I can't let him see me. Come to think of it, it horrifies me to imagine how things would turn out once he discovers me. A Slytherin alone and invisible in the library by the restricted section. He doesn't have to know that I avoid people on purpose. A Slytherin engaged in a fiery duel, all in daylight. A Slytherin girl who admires him enough to save him. NO!

Defiance shone through my features, but every last of my will buckled as his hands cupped my face, rough and aloof at first, but gentleness breaks through the coarse surface, once he recognized my soft features. I close my eyes with a sharp intake of breath as a single slender finger traces the bow of my lip. An unfamiliar sensation begins to bottle in, somewhere down there, and I have to resist the urge to pull him down, his hot lips smearing mine. But he is Sirius Black…and my mind tries its best to tug me out of my daze…his daze…does that really matters? A gentle hand combs through my short hair. It barely reaches my shoulders and I can't help a sudden ache of misery as his hand lingers right above my shoulders, barely touching. I reach up my tiptoes, so he can go down further. He chuckles. I open my eyes and thank my stars again that he can't see me. Even the thought of him staring me down, all flushed and wanting totally revolts me.

"There you are! I've been looking for you!"

He jumps back, startled, while I stay put, petrified.

"What is it Moony?" Sirius asks a bit testily. A tiny part of me springs up hopefully. Maybe he did enjoy our little…fling. If you could even call it that.

Raising a quizzical brow, 'Moony' says, "James sent me for you. He's landed into a detention with Lily for the rest of the whole term."

All I do is sink to my feet silently in hopes of Mother Earth to finally swallow me. What have I done!

* * *

 **A/N: Oops. Look like we're going to have quite flashy moments of Jilly in the next term. Stay put to meet the other characters. I don't feel a grudge against any character, except for maybe Dolores Umbridge, but this story is in POV of my OC, April Green. So please bear with it if she makes a nerve twitch with her judgemental notes. Also, a dark secret is going to be revealed.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi there! I know I'm terrible with my updates, but I have my exams knocking at the door. Nevertheless, I hope this chapter is satisfactory, as we pry deeper into April's life. You'll see why she's the way she is. And, you already know this fic is M-rated, but being safe, I warn you of the adult contents from this chapter onward. Enjoy! And don't forget to leave a review!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 _My tears can be for two reasons:_

 _a deep sadness_

 _or an enraged courage_

 _The bad thing is :_

 _when they come together,_

 _I become a sea of tragedy_

What is life when you're potentially an invisible being? What is it like, to be this close with someone you admire, albeit at a distance? I never imagined I would live to breathe in his breath, to see the dark flecks in those grey eyes, like an avid thunderstorm on a dark night, to breathe in his scent, like a veil around my flaming heart. Of course it makes my knees buckle each time his name echoes in my ears. Of course it makes my heart leap a beat whenever his face looms in front of the mind's eye. Of course, after all those years of restraint and ignorance, Sirius Black shafts his way into my mind, a permanent residence, shattering every bit of will power I had. I don't love him. I can't. My world is one without sunrise, and he, is radiant like the sun itself. He will attract all my demons like moth to flame. The least I can do is keep him safe, my potential love, perhaps in another universe.

I couldn't go for dinner. Be it the end-of-the-year feast, but my appetite seemed to have conjured up a Dillusionment Charm of its own, my stomach revolting even at the mention of 'food'. From what I heard, it seemed like the Gryffindor quartet made quite a show of their inner imp, sneaking into the kitchen to jinx the food for the Slytherin table, and of course as soon as my housemates attacked the lavish food, they ended up in huge boils bulging with nauseating green pulp. Lucky me, eh? My dorm-mates were cussing the devil out of those four till they finally drifted asleep. It's nearly two in the morning and I still can't sleep. All that excitement over Sirius Black should have worn me out, but here I am, eyes as wide as my snowy owl Piff. He hooted as turned to face the window. Tomorrow—today…I'll be back. Back inside my living nightmare.

Sun slips back into the sky and soon enough I hear shuffling all around me. The Common Room was practically chaotic, choir people running around with their croaking large dish-sized toads in hands, first years running around, looking for their lost items which (probably) their seniors had snuck somewhere. I can't help but smile wryly at my Slytherin 'family'. Even if in the most pathetic way, they are like my second family.

"You coming for breakfast?"

I nearly jump out of my skin. There he stands with a lopsided grin on his face: Regulus Black, the same regal look as his brother, though comparatively less defined.

"You don't have to spook me out every time, you know." I frown as he simply laughs. What's so funny?

"I guess that was pretty slithery of me." Regulus says with a shrug. How could he carry himself with such ease? I can never talk to someone without slouching. I guess it comes as a habit in trying to hide somewhere, if nothing, why not behind your own self?

And no, we're not friends. He just likes to talk sometimes. I guess he pities me and my loneliness. I wonder if his brother feels the same. Or if he even knows I exist.

"-llo? April? You still with me?"

"Huh? Yeah. I was just—I didn't get much sleep last night." I confessed. Jeez, I was more truthful to this boy than I'd been to anyone I can remember. _My dad_ …

"No shit. Are you alright? You weren't even at dinner last night." Regulus complains, as if I'd personally offended him. _He noticed….!_

"Why? To transform into a humane version of Mimbulus mimbletionia?" I shrug it off lightly.

Regulus shoots me a blank look. "Whatever is _that_?"

I open my mouth to explain the rare plant species, when a large gang of Slytherin Quidditch team rounds up along the corridor.

"Hey Regulus, whatever are you doing with _that_?" Avery jeered, pointing his middle finger at me. How charming.

"She's like a walking Dementor, mate. She'll leech out every bit of good in you." Montague says, and a round of mixed cackle follows.

I know. They're verbally pissing on me. But you never fight back unless you want a death sentence. Especially when you've got to live with them another couple of years. Regulus shoots me a sympathetic look. But I'm wise enough to know when I'm not wanted.

"I'll see you around, then." I mumble and turn, only to halt in a place.

There he is, laughing his bark like laugh, head thrown back in the air. It's like his radiance charges me up with inner strength. _Love_ , my subconscious self mouths at me. _No way_! From a distance I hear the cackles continue. He look up straight, and for a teeniest bit, hope sparks in me as his gaze brushes past me. His jaw hardens and his features turn into a frown, beckoning his mates towards me. _Wait!_ Did he recognize me from yesterday? Oh no…but…hang on. He's not looking at me. None of them are. The guffaws have stopped now, and I can feel hostility crackling in the air. _I should go_ , I tell myself. It is better to be safe than sorry. I continue on my way to the Great Hall, with a last look at a particular Gryffindor, who had his wand out. Oh boy. Not good. I cast a fleeting look at Regulus as I enter the Great Hall. I'm still not hungry, but I have to get some food in my system, if I want to keep walking. I assemble a few sliced berries, bananas, mangoes, and oranges with maple syrup. This could do well for a start.

By the time I return from the library (had a book to return), most of the students are already halfway to the Hogsmeade station, and only a few carriages are left. A gaggle of giggling Ravenclaws push past me into a nearby carriage. I stand awkwardly, wondering if I should join them, or resort to an empty one. The second option seemed a lot, lot better—until I was joined by three other boys.

"—has a meeting or something." James Potter took a seat in front of me, followed by Peter Pettigrew, who obviously took the seat next to James. That left—oh my gosh—Sirius, who sat beside me, making me shrink back to my side.

 _Oh Mother Earth! Please swallow me!_

"I bet you wish you were there, don't you?" Peter snickers, as our carriage lurches forward.

Sirius scoffs. "Don't be such a pain, Wormy. Prongs isn't half as desperate to prance around with a Prefect badge."

"Even for her?" Peter seems adamant.

Sirius elegantly cocks his eyebrow at James who shifts uncomfortably. How thick can you be Sirius? James obviously loves the idea, willing to take all the desperate measures, anything for Lily Evans. If there's anything I proudly proclaim to be good at, it's reading people. No, I'm not a Legilimens, but I can guess well with mere observance. Wait…why is suddenly so quiet? Oh no, I inwardly groan as all the three Gryffindors are staring at me skeptically. My mind reels over all the defensive spells, expecting a jinx in my way any minute. I don't want to get off this carriage as an oozing slug.

"Let her be. It's just a girl." Sirius says, with a yawn. "Gee, I can't wait for the summer to end already."

"You know you're welcome anytime, mate." James says reassuringly. What's wrong with Sirius's family? Not his family, it's him, my sub-consciousness whispers.

The rest of the ride is quite uneventful, as I sense they don't want to make much talk in my presence. I fumble with the end of my tie as I look past the glass paneled doors of the compartments. Nearly all of them were full. By the time I reached the end of the corridor, the train had already sped past a couple of villages. In the last compartment sits Severus Snape, a brooding look on his face. If there was anyone as lonely and forlorn as me, it would be him. Still, I didn't want to be anywhere near a Slytherin anymore than I want to be with someone from another house. But I didn't have any other option, did I?

"Brooding over won't help ease it up." I try to sound as gentle as my fruity voice would allow.

Severus looks up and sighs. "What do you want?" he sounds dull, almost rejected. I almost pity him.

"A seat? Everywhere else is full." When he doesn't counters a snarky reply, I tentatively take a seat in the other corner near the door, across him.

He simply looks out of the window, his black eyes, dazed. I close my eyes, leaning against the door frame. I should get a blink of sleep while I can. I doubt _**he'd**_ let me rest once I'm back.

"I never intended it for her."

My eyes snap open. His eyes are still dazed, his face, a personification of pain. I let him talk, vent it out.

"It's that Potter, he simply brings out the worst in me." his voice is so full of angst, that I can't help a wave of emotion clog in my throat. "I can't bear it, the way she looks at me now, like I'm a criminal. A helpless criminal. After all those years we spent together…never in the worst of my nightmares had I thought it to end this way."

So you did know it would end.

"Yes."

Shit. I just spoke that out, didn't I?

"You know how we all are. With the Dark Lord rising, it's better to be safe than sorry." Severus says darkly.

"And you're going to join them?" I try to keep the disgust out of my voice.

"As soon as I'm of age."

"I see. And if Lily had been a friend, would you still do it? You know what they do to her…people like her, don't you?"

Agony washes his pallid features, and it is then that I noticed how bloodshot his eyes were. Like a madman. "I would NEVER let them touch her! I could—never—hurt—never—my Lily…"

He struggles for words, choking on his own tears. I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe my own self, as I walk up to him and gently take his hands in mine, squeezing it softly. His rough hands grip hard, and it is all I can to not yelp out in pain. I can't bring myself to say that it's alright, that she's going to come around, eventually. One of the things I hate is false expectations, and I take enough care so as not to feed it out to anyone.

"Thank you, April." Severus says. We're almost about to reach the King's Cross station. Surprisingly (even to me), I wrap my arms around him. He's very bony, smelling of fresh apples. Sweet and tart. His arms eventually wrap around me albeit a bit awkwardly. The door slides open.

"We're about to—oh."

We break apart to stare at none other than Lily Evans, looking flushed, either out of anger or embarrassment, I can't really tell.

"It's not—"

SLAM!

"like you think." I finish, casting an apprehensive look at Severus. He looks, if possible, even more miserable. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, but didn't say anything. There. I ruined every chance I had to finally make a friend, even if it's not the coolest guy on campus.

"I'll write to you if I can."

I turn around and stare at him in shock, as I'm about to get down the train. Various yells to move forwards save me from replying anything but a "yeah, sure". Perhaps, like me, Severus Snape had made a rare real friend too.

I'm not surprised to see that nobody had come to pick me up. I see Marlene McKinnon and her sisters squeal and hug their parents. James is surprisingly very chatty around his parents. They are quite old for a son as young as James, possibly in their late fifties. Perhaps James has an older brother. Sirius and Regulus, being the youngest of Blacks, greet their parents stiffly. I can't help but envy everyone around me.

* * *

"Hey, Mum, I'm home!" I call out, dragging my trunk behind me.

My mother staggers into the drawing room, looking a lot more gaunt and haggard than the last time I'd met her. I mostly took after my mother in my looks; the light golden brown hair falling into soft waves (mine was shorter), the small, thin face, and the small petite physique. But her eyes were electric blue, though now bloodshot due to the alcohol, and I favored on my father's hazel eyes. My mother could always guess what I was thinking, back in old days and I could never lie. She said my feelings sort of reflected in my eyes, which changed colors. Now, however, my mother said no such things. Gone was the old mother, who's laughter used to tingle like bells in my ears, mirth dancing in her eyes. It pained me to watch her wasting away.

Her eyes seem unfazed as she stares at me, cocking her head. "Mum?" she echoes me. She points to her chest childishly. "Me?"

Her Alzheimer's has worsened. Ever since she'd started on drugs, her memories seemed to have altered. The doctors say she cannot distinguish hallucinations and reality.

"Yes Mum. I'm April, your daughter." I try not to cringe away in disgust as she caresses my face with a pale, bony hand.

"April, my baby!" she cries happily and envelops me into a bone-crushing hug.

"Yeah, Mum, can't breathe." I muster out and she loosens her hold, still not letting go. "Where's Gunter?"

"Who? Oh him…he said he's going out to Cannes with his friends for a fortnight." My mother said. "He must have left this morning."

"He didn't sleep here?" I ask. My mother shakes her head.

Gunter Davies is my mother's new husband, whom she married nearly three years ago. He's a stinking rich entrepreneur, in his late forties, with thinning hairline and a bulging belly. He was more well-maintained at the wedding though. My mother met him at a pub and six months later, when I got I got home for Christmas, Mum announced that she was getting married. How was I supposed to react to that? I had seen her with various hideous men, ever so often joining us at breakfast. None of them seemed too interested in her, rather, the obvious. But Gunter seemed genuine, the way he toasted on her, the way he looked at her. But I knew all of that had been nothing but an act on my next Christmas holiday, when he had finally begun to show his true colours.

Up till then, my mother wasn't as unsteady as she is now. But that Christmas, I was visibly shocked to see her. Her beautiful hairs, for which my father used to bring forget-me-nots to braid them himself, were barely visible amidst the grey. Her eyes were twice a shade darker, unfocused. Her hollow cheeks were more prominent along with the purple bags underneath her eyes, as if she was intentionally starving herself. I could easily count her ribs in the thin, slinky dress she wore on the New Year's Eve. It was a small celebration. Just the three of us. Gunter had gone out of the way and cooked up a lavish meal for us. He cooks well. I retired to my room a while after midnight. A while later, I could hear the gasps and moans from across the hallway. I frowned. It was the first time they did it out of their room. At least when I was there. I tried to sleep. After all these years, I had grown used to it. I didn't know how many minutes or hours had passed, but my eyes snapped open the moment I heard the door click. I should have turned around and switched the lights on to ask what was the matter. I should have screamed. But I lay awake, somehow knowing that something very unpleasant was going to happen.

The lights were still out, but I felt my bed creak. My whole body was wide alert, hairs prickling all over. My covers were thrown away casually, and I felt something brush against my legs. The touch was getting more tangible, feather soft to a hard grip, and suddenly, I was yanked to my front. Wide eyed, I could make out Gunter's form over me, fumbling with his belt. I wanted to run away as far as I could and never look away, but I was paralyzed. And I would never leave my mother alone with this monster no matter how mad I was at her. I loved her.

THUD.

The simple thud of his belt thrown on the floor seemed to make me jump. He was taking off his boxers now. NO! I suddenly found strength to crawl away, but hands grabbed me at my waist and yanked off my pajamas along with my underwear. I shrieked, frantically trying to cover up myself.

He merely laughed, sending chills down my spine more than the cold air. "Now, now, don't act like I haven't seen enough of pussies to know what it looks like."

My cheeks were burning. I wanted to scream, to yell till my voice broke down. I was trembling, and jumped as he suddenly switched on the lights. I clasped my legs together as tight as I could, covering with my shaky hands. He looked at me appraisingly. I tried not to look any father down than his chest.

"Strip." He said bluntly and staggered over my bed. I whimpered. "Are you doing it or do I have to tear it off you like your underwear?"

I winced at his coldness. I wished he would look away. Growling irritably, he yanked my ankle again, pulling my towards him, such that my toes scarcely brushed the cold hard floor. I wrung myself away as he grabbed my shirt. But he was bigger, and a lot more stronger than I was. He clutched both my wrists together in one fist and tore my garment off roughly with another hand. I inched away as he stepped back to look at me. One arm over my chest and the other down my waist, I curled into a ball.

"Hmm…still growing, but I bet you'd be gorgeous in my old days. Let me see what's down there." He yanked my legs apart and I did all I could to fight back. "Fighting off will only make it more painful."

 _More_ …

I shut my eyes tight as a finger probed at my entrance.

"Meh, you're too small. I thought fourteen would be fine." He said, trying to keep my legs apart. "Never mind. I can do with this."

Pain exploded and I screamed and screamed. I screamed for my mother, to save the last bit of me. I screamed for my dad, to kill this monster. I screamed for God, if there really was any. My voice was hoarse, but the pain never lessened as he violated my body. He was panting gruffly, pinching my nipples hard, so hard that I would have squeaked if he had not been pounding inside me like a beast, which overthrew all the other sensations of pain, be that his nails digging over my butt or his teeth sinking into my shoulder.

By the time he was done, I was barely alive. I was left in my own pool of agony, bleeding and whimpering. He left me alone for the next few days and I was grateful, knowing by then that it could get a lot worse. I couldn't urinate without experiencing a burn. I couldn't walk up to the dining room for breakfast. My mother should have sensed something when she brought me food, but she didn't. The rest of my year at Hogwarts had been even more terrible. I would have almost failed had I not already prepared most of the chapters before Christmas.

Two weeks seemed to glide past like a Dementor, sucking every last bit of good thoughts in my head. I had immersed myself into feeding and taking care of my pathetic mother, but as the Sunday morning arises, I feel a familiar chill down my spine. I try to keep my nerves steady, occupying myself with the preparation of Lancashire hotpot for lunch. The doorbell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts, and my scalp prickles. All coherent thoughts leave my mind as my mother leads that monster into the kitchen who greets me politely, but the greedy look in his eyes in unmistakable as if trying to devour me through those rash blue eyes for lunch. My body turns hard and resilient, radiating hostility. Was it just two weeks ago that I had melted in the arms of Sirius Black?

* * *

 **A/N: I hope I did justice to all the canon characters. And yeah, April is not your regular 'Miss Sunshine'. Let's see what other secret she has up her sleeves. ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 _I AM MADE_

 _of self destruction and crash_

 _landings. even still, i find_

 _beauty in walking alone._

As much as we try not to hurt the ones we love, sometimes it's inevitable. There are decisions that we have to make that will affect the people around us but they are choices that we know will make us happy. They are choices that we know are good for us.

So we go on,

like an ocean tide,

helping

hurting

and healing

all at once.

Voices echo, growing loud and distinct with every pull towards my consciousness. I blink into darkness, aware of my prolonged nakedness, the smell weighing in the air a valid proof that everything had been a reality. Thousandfold I had tried to imagine the long, slender fingers of a certain someone caressing me, instead of the grubby hands which were actually the ones exploiting my most private parts. Tears had long dried and disappeared, leaving behind a dreary desert of sadness. Rising from a pile of blood and ashes may remind you of a Phoenix, but nothing's as pleasant as it sounds. It burned as I lay in my chosen purgatory. It burns as I slowly sit up, clutching my belly. It _still_ burns as I try to hold myself up on my feet, ignoring the pained hiss that subconsciously leaves my lips. Gathering courage to get up seems like a cinch when it comes to facing the marks of the horror inflicted in the mirror. No matter what I try, I cannot undo them. Marks of _sin_. But even then, there was this small flicker which kept me going, encouraging me in silent whispers, to wear my scars as a badge of pride. _Hope_. For a better tomorrow. Water stings, like a thousand bees pitching theirs tiny weapons all at once. After cleaning up, I change into the most decent and comfy clothes I own.

Tiptoeing across the hallway, I take an opposite turn from the direction of Gunter and his friends currently lounging in the living room.

"-can't wait to get on with the girl." Ice emanates in my veins, halting me still.

"Not her. She's mine." I recognize the voice to be Gunter, feeling grateful to him for the first time.

"Aww, c'mon, don't be such a killjoy. You can have a go on Mellie if that helps." Shock and horror are amongst the few of the feelings raging through me, and I realize that I'm trembling. Gunter is quiet for a while, as if _considering_ this shameful deal.

"Fine I guess. How old is she again? Your girl?" Gunter asks nonchalantly.

I could hear no more, skidding into the kitchen as fast as my legs could carry. _I have to get out of here_. What I didn't expect was another horror awaiting to ensnare me into another nightmare. My mother, my once clumsy, bubbly yet lovely mother lying naked, spread eagled on the dining table, a limb bound to each leg of the table. I don't have to be a psychic to fathom what had happened here. What could happen to me too, if I stay. A part of me wants to scream at the horror, flail and cry as to what had we done to deserve such tyranny. Another wants to bolt of the house, and run for the hills. Instead, I choose to remain calm. I have always been the one looking after her, right?

"Mother, we have to get out of here." My voice comes out too small for her to even stir as I undo the bondage.

She looks like she's been knocked out cold. Fury wraps itself like a cocoon and I have to clench my fists to stop from shaking. Noiselessly, fill a glass with water and gently dab an ample amount over her eyes. She feels feverish, though ghastly pale and I have to take deep breaths in order for not panicking straight. I cannot let myself get lost in my thoughts. I have to stay alert. _For her_.

"…Robb…?" My breath hitches, trying to ignore the pang, the slow burn floundering in my chest. For the first time I'm glad my father isn't here. Isn't here to see what a mess she is now.

"Mother, it's me."

She tries to open her eyes, head lolling around helplessly. Is this how you become when you slowly lose your senses? She has lost her vision. I could scarcely remember the doctor implying the same years ago, when she had actually bothered consulting with one. I stroke her rough grey strands idly wondering if she could feel that.

"April" she rasps in her feathery voice. It hurts, to see the one you love the most in such a pitiful condition.

"Yes, Mum." I haven't called her that in a while. Not since Dad…

 _"Fly…my baby bird."_

My blood runs cold. For a moment, her eyes are not unfocused. I could feel her looking at me, with those same sharp eyes from the past. And then it's gone. She coughs dry blood snapping me back into reality. _Had I been dreaming?_ I help her up. I could even lift her up if I tried. But she is wheezing, and lurching and gagging and I didn't care how unsightly it was. The smell of blood she pukes, or the noise that could probably attract a lot more than trouble itself. _She matters. Only her._ Her wracks slowly ebb away, and she becomes limp in my arms. Too limp, if that's even possible.

"Mum?" I whisper, my breath coming in short gasps as I feel for her pulse.

There's none. And I can't breathe. I stagger back against the hard slab digging into my spine painfully, but it doesn't really matter. _No…not you too!_ I want to scream, break down, shatter into a million pieces that nobody could put together. Images replayed in my mind, how she simply _disappeared_ while still in sight. Tears still don't come and I bang my fist into the hardwood floor. _Fly…my baby bird._ I pick myself up from the ground. And then I see it, glinting in all its glory as if mocking at me. The kitchen knife. Should I end it? Sinful as my existence was, I couldn't afford for an easy escape. I had to repent.

Trying not to bring her body in my field of vision, I drag myself back to my room. Most of my belongings already rested in the trunk, yet I take my time to look around for any other additions. Ten minutes later, I'm changed and ready with my trunk packed and ready at my feet.

"Going somewhere?" Gunter leans into the doorframe, his look unreadable.

"You don't scare me." I say it out loud more for my sake than his. It's a lot easier to believe then, no matter how big a lie is.

Frowning, he advances towards me with his usual stride. But this time, I am ready. I pull out the stolen pistol from the back of my pants. His eyes widen slightly, recognizing his possession, now flashing dangerously in my hands. It didn't come as a shock at all when I realized how badly I wanted to pull the trigger straight into his brains. Or his groin.

"Easy now, April. That's a dangerous thing." Gunter eyes the gun apprehensively, saccharine dripping from his voice which was no less than poison for me.

"For you perhaps." My voice is alarmingly calm, yet minacious.

 _He knows_. He knows I wouldn't hesitate to shoot. Nor could he risk calling out to his friends lounging in the parlour. Eyes and gun still fixated on him, I crouch, hand groping the truck's handle.

"Scoot." I order, never once blinking.

Begrudgingly he obeys, his eyes darkening as if planning something sinister. And I am proven right. As soon as I pass him into the hallway, he lunges for me. I dive sideways, slipping from his grasp narrowly. There are only mere seconds that I get to formulate an attack. It's pretty simple, if you do not panic. He's in a close range, which makes it a hell lot easier to aim without you needing to be a marksman. A wave of ecstasy emanates from my chest as my shot hits his groin bloody. The scream of pain that follows only doping me higher with pleasure. I am no athlete, but I reach the main door before Gunter's friends can catch me. They have seen what I could do. That I could shoot at will. They probably thought I was good at it, for I could see the fear palpitate in their irises. And somehow, _their_ fear built up my strength.

I don't know I I'm being tailed or not. They are muggles. Filthy fucking muggles. If they try too hard, all I have t do is whip my wand out. And in these days, there are way more options for an underage witch than to wait for the ministry to catch you. For all I know, I left all the care I had back with my mother's body, the goodness in me long evaporated since my father left permanently. Just this once, I look back for a last time, eyes holding a promise, _I will be back_.

* * *

 **EXTRA**

On the night of his return from Hogwarts, the Black family had organised a lavish sit-down dinner. The Lestranges, and the Malfoys (who had joined hands with the Blacks last winter) were also invited. Sirius could not find a worse table to dine in. He could remember his favourite cousin Andromeda commenting how he would be the first to break out a revolution amongst the Blacks, yet ironically, it was he who was confined in chains of his family. This didn't mean that he wasn't happy for her. Ted Tonks seemed like a good man from what she told him in her letters. As for his own happiness, the very spectacle of spending time with his family seemed to fill him with dread.

Walburga Black eyed her son with keen contempt as he took his seat. She would not allow him to dishonour her family name in front of the guests tonight. Sirius, however, seemed as determined to deter whatsoever expectations everyone had of him. Sirius was seated between his brother Regulus, whose back was so straight along with eloquent way he ate, that would put the professor of etiquette to shame. The other side of Sirius was occupied by a girl he had never met but he recognised her from the Slytherin table. Upon noting that she was being watched, the girl offered Sirius a timid smile. Had he been in a pub, he would have returned that smile in many other ways. But his mind could recognise the possibility of a surprise guest at the table. The general conversation was dull and revolved around the usual topics; money, each family expressing their superiority, how the 'Dark Lord' was purifying their world, and he lost them at that.

"So how old is Sirius now?" Malfoy asked. For all he knew, Lucius was only trying to sound like a considerate son-in-law.

"Sixteen." Mrs. Black answered before Sirius had the chance.

"He would have the school finished soon, what will he do then?"

"I will be joining Dark Lord." Regulus chimed in proudly, cheeks warming slightly at the nods and murmurs of approval.

"No thanks, I won't." Sirius muttered, though loud enough for the conversation to die a little, the chink of China suggesting that the guests had set down their cutlery to stare at him.

Mrs. Black, not wanting to give her blasted son an excuse to embarrass her, skilfully changed the subject to marriages.

"Bellatrix had already been promised to Rodolphus before she finished her O. ." her mother smiled proudly. "Has Sirius been arranged with someone yet?"

Mrs. Black's gaze darted past her son, to the girl as she smiled for the first time that evening. "Oh yes, it is all arranged. Aviana would surely be a good match."

Aviana? Aviana Greengrass. He remembered now. She was a year behind him, barely fifteen and they wanted him to stuff her with a heavy glittering ring. Aviana was blushing as she looked down at her hands and Sirius groaned internally. Seemed like his concerns were only one-sided.

"We will have them engaged soon while they're still home this summer." Mr. Black informed, nodding at Mr. Greengrass as he spoke.

But Sirius wasn't the type to be ordered around. "I won't."

"What?" His father cut in sharply.

"I will marry at my own conditions, if I even would marry, that is." Sirius returned his father's cold stare obnoxiously.

"Go to your room. NOW." Mrs. Black said in a deadly whisper.

"Yes Mother." Sirius made sure to make as much noise as he could as he got up.

* * *

Days had passed, and yet Sirius had not been allowed out of his room. Kreacher would appear twice a day to deliver food, muttering words like 'blood traitor' under his breath. Sirius had taken the time to make his room as flashy and salacious as possible, going as far as to stick lewd pictures of bikini models with permanent sticking charm on the wall, along with posters of muggle motorbikes, Gryffindor banners and of course, pictures of his friends. If anything, he had mastered the Permanent Sticking Charm perfectly.

Sirius wondered if he had surpassed Lupin with the number of books he had read in two weeks. He had completed the Holiday Homework in the first half of the week, now scavenging his stack to find a good read. His eyes fell on the still-brand-new copy of Hogwarts: A History. Somehow the book reminded him of the last day at school. The books, the fight, the girl. He had forgotten how impressive her defensive spells were. If only he could know who she was...

Mrs. Black chose that moment to enter his room and nearly had a cardiac arrest at the sight of his 'refurbished' room.

"What's this?" She sputtered, her face barely containing the rage she felt.

"What is what, Mother?" Sirius decided to play innocent. It was more fun toying with them anyway. Like playing with fire.

"The walls...the obscene photographs..." nostrils flaring, she attempted to take the posters down.

Amused, Sirius tried to hide his grin at how well his sticking charm had turned out to be. Mrs. Black screamed in frustration and continued to try ridding the walls of the posters for another five minutes. Upon realising that her pestilential son had charmed the damn photographs, she took deep breaths in an attempt to compose herself. She would not let him seek pleasure from her aggravation.

"Get your trunk ready with your best robes. We will be going to Cannes tomorrow." Sirius couldn't help notice how her small mouth seemed even smaller frowned.

"What for?" He asked without a care.

Her lip turned upward snidely as she informed him. "Why, it is your engagement, of course."

Sirius couldn't react. Smirking at her son's loss of words, Mrs. Black left briskly. Little did she know she would get the shock of her life that night. By midnight, his trunk was packed up with most of his belongings, leaving behind a few as a souvenir of his existence at the Noble House of Black. He was finally doing what he had dreamed since he was a boy.

"Alohomora." The door clicked open and he sneaked outside, levitating his trunk behind him. The operation was nearly successful as he reached the front door when a loud crack ruined a perfectly sleek escape.

"MISTRESS, MASTER, MASTER SIRIUS IS RUNNING AWAY!" Kreacher's voice screeched like a barn owl, and it would only be a matter of minutes when the whole household would be downstairs.

If he could, Sirius would have murdered the elf right then and there, but upon hearing the sudden thudding upstairs, he dashed to the front door, fumbling with the lock. His heart pounded against his ribs as his mother's shouting approached him.

"Come on, come on...open up..." he muttered to himself. The door finally opened and he sprinted to the nearest cover he could find: the garbage bin. It stank, he gagged, shifting his weight to the other foot as he crouched behind it.

"WHERE IS HE?" Mrs Black seethed. "I'll kill him. I'LL KILL HIM."

"He has always been a disgrace to our family. But I have had enough now. I will not let him tarnish our name anymore. He is no son of mine. Come, let us not waste any more precious time." Mr. Black led his fuming wife inside.

It stung. Despite him and his family being at each other's necks for years, it still fucking hurt to hear those words from his father. Perhaps he had always hoped that underneath their superficial beliefs, they really did love him after all. _Hope._ One of the most misleading feelings in the world. With one last withering look at his old 'prison', Sirius turned away, stormy grey eyes holding a single vow. _I will never return._

* * *

 **Author's Note: Finally! It took me a long, long while to finish this chapter. I know** **it has gotten real dark and depressing, but believe me, next chapter will be a bit more fun and guess who's going to show up? As usual, I would love to hear your thoughts and suggestions, so please, please do review.**


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